Stages of Death
by Curiosity's Principle
Summary: Post S2finale. You’d think the hallucinations would’ve started earlier. Unless they’re not hallucinations at all... While trying to get info from a strangely familiar boy about a murder case, Gene starts seeing the figment of an old, dead friend.
1. Innocence Then Anger

**_LIFE ON MARS: Stages of Death_**

By: Curiosity's Principle

**Author's Note**: This is set nearly 8 years after the series 2 finale. Those worried about A2A spoilers hear this: I've yet to watch the show. I've heard a few things and seen the first episode BUT this story doesn't follow A2A so it doesn't matter. ie: You don't need to have seen A2A to get it and you won't be getting any huge spoilers from A2A.

Summary: You'd think the hallucinations would've started earlier…Unless they're not hallucinations at all. While trying to get information out of a strangely familiar boy concerning a murder case, Gene finds himself haunted by the angry figment of an old, dead friend. (Don't worry, Sam fans. Tyler definitely has an important role in this story!)

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**CHAPTER 1: Innocence Then Anger**

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Gene Hunt strode into A-Division, an angry scowl on his face. He'd just returned from the coroner. A woman had been murdered in a Manchester park, the body identified as one Ilene Hutchison, 39. 'A widower with a heart of gold' according to the neighbor that had identified her. Mrs. Hutchison was not rich, did not appear to be involved in anything illegal nor had she been messing around with any dangerous men. According to the coroner, there were no signs of sexual assault, only some bruises around the face and abdomen and the gunshot wound that had killed her. The fact that there was no purse on her led him to think that it had been a robbery and that really brassed DCI Hunt off. An innocent bird had died so that some prick too lazy to get a job could nick her purse.

A familiar -yet no less annoying because of it- voice in the back of his mind warned him not to jump to conclusions. Gene told it silently to shut up. He wasn't jumping to anything. He was doing his job and doing it thoroughly. The remnant voice's owner would even have agreed had he been there to do so. For the umpteenth time since Sam Tyler's death, Gene found himself alternately blaming himself for not stopping him and blaming Sam for being a ruddy idiot and not listening to Gene's orders.

The DCI stepped up to the front desk, pulling off his black leather gloves. Phyllis wasn't on duty. It was some new plonk named Carol Williams. A bit slow was Carol, Gene thought, but capable.

"Chris and Ray back yet?" he questioned, not even in the mood to make a quip about the excessive amount of make-up Carol had put on.

Carol nodded seeming somewhat disturbed. "Aye, Guv, they have."

"Good," he said, pushing away from the desk towards the stairs. The bird spoke again.

"Guv? They told me to tell you first…"

Gene sighed and spun back towards her in exasperation. "What?"

"They said they found something."

"Whoop-di-flippin'-do. Why couldn't they tell me that themselves?" Gene questioned, already turning back around.

"But-"

"It's all right. They're big boys, WPC Williams. They can tell me on their own. I'd rather hear it from the horse's mouth anyway."

Gene stepped into the office section and immediately noticed something strange. All eyes went to him even as his own squinted into a frown.

"All right, gents. I know you don't get the best pay, but that doesn't mean you can bring yer kids to work just to save money on the baby-sitter."

The four men all looked to each other. In the center of the room, the object of Gene's attention stood up with a somehow familiar frown.

"I don't need a baby-sitter," growled the boy, a dark blond kid with shaggy hair much like Chris's and fierce but fearful eyes. He was lanky and thin and stood just under a meter and a half by Gene's reckoning.

Behind the boy, Ray cleared his throat. "We, uh, we went to the bird's house, just like you said, Guv, to see if we could find anything and- uh-"

Ray looked towards the kid and faded off, but Gene thought he got the idea. It was in the short silence that followed that the boy decided to speak up.

"Those two broke in without a warrant or anything!" the boy exclaimed with the same high and mighty tone Gene identified with someone else. "That's against the law! I wasn't doin' anything wrong."

Gene stalked up to the lad, his close proximity deflating the kid's thunder somewhat.

"We ARE the law, boy," Gene declared. "And don't you forget it!"

The boy scowled at him a moment then looked away.

"So! Now that that's cleared up, time for some questions." It was about then that Gene became aware of the tension in the room. Gene continued anyway. "You were in that house?"

The boy nodded, but didn't elaborate until Gene pushed him.

"Why?"

"I was there for a visit. It's me Auntie's- me Aunt Ilene's flat. I was staying there for the weekend. Vacation."

Gene's eyes softened almost imperceptibly as the boy continued.

"Whatever it is, you've got the wrong person. My aunt wouldn't do anything illegal. She doesn't need to. She's happy."

Gene swallowed and looked up at his officers. None met his gaze. They hadn't told him.

"And like I told them," the kid continued after a breath. "I'm not answering any questions 'til you tell me what's goin' on."

The kid crossed his arms and did his best to look tough. It didn't work. That strangely familiar face was as readable as a kindergartener's bedtime story.

"What's your name?" Gene asked.

"That's a question," came the smart-ass reply. "I'm not answering."

Normally that would be enough to piss Gene off, but the man recognized the boy's fear behind his closed-lip act. Even before Gene sighed, Gene knew that the kid was scared and quickly becoming more so. Gene had informed many people throughout his career that their loved ones had been killed. The majority fell into two groups. Those who didn't believe him at first and those who somehow read in his face the unhappy truth and knew even before he said it. This boy belonged to the latter. His eyes widened and his shoulders sagged.

"I'm sorry, kid," Gene started.

"No…"

"Your aunt has been murdered."

The kid was silent, his hands clenched as he searched the other officers as if hoping for a different opinion. None of them met his eyes, now watery and red. Finally he turned back to Gene.

"Why?" he asked, his small voice cracking.

Gene took a deep breath and straightened. "We don't know yet."

The boy looked away, his eyes seeing nothing as he took a half step back. Gene tensed, knowing that they might have a runner.

"Look," he said sternly. "If you could answer some questions for us, you could help us catch the bastard that did this. Let's start small, eh? What's your name?"

The kid didn't seem to hear him.

"Hey!" Gene snapped his fingers at the boy who started at the sound. You gonna help us nick this villain or what?"

"I… I need to use the bathroom," the boy replied slowly. He was looking pale and though Gene didn't want to wait for the information, he didn't want the smell of vomit stinking up his office either.

"Fine. Larry here will show ya'," Gene told him as he nodded to Larry and gave the man a 'watch him carefully' look. The shorter man nodded and led the boy away, a hand on his shoulder. While the kid got a hold of himself Gene could get the full low-down from Chris and Ray.

Gene had barely turned to them when a shout came from Larry. The DCI spun back in time to see the kid slamming the hallway doors back on Larry as he fled down the hall to the stairs. Larry followed. So did Gene. He dashed into the hall in time to see Larry disappearing down the stairwell. With a shout for the rest for his team to follow, Gene tore down the stairs, through the lobby, and out into the street. He spotted Larry even as he heard Chris and Ray coming up behind him. Gene charged down the way full speed, but never seeming to gain much on Larry or the boy. Maybe Sam had been right about the occasional morning jog.

Just ahead of Larry, the boy turned down a side alley. Gene smiled. They had him now. That alley was a dead end. Not that the thought slowed Gene's pace. He turned down the ally a second later, a string of colourful remarks to fling at the kid running through his head only to see his target mounting the top of the ten foot chain link fence to drop to a dumpster then the street below. The kid didn't stop for a breath, he didn't even look back, he just kept running.

"Get back here!" Gene shouted. "You're obstructing this investigation, you little twonk!

Larry stood at the chain link fence, looking and ashamed.

"I'm sorry, Guv. The little bugger is fast."

Gene scowled, but replied with an "I saw."

Chris and Ray stepped up beside him.

"What now, Guv?" Ray asked.

Gene cast one final glare at the fence before turning away, heading back towards the precinct. The other three followed.

"You never got that kid's name?" Gene asked.

"No, Guv. He wouldn't say," Ray answered.

"Took us ages just to get him to come down to the station with us," Chris put in.

"He called her 'Aunt Ilene'. I thought we said she didn't have any family," Gene replied.

"She didn't," said Larry.

"So was the kid lyin' then?" Gene questioned.

"He knew the victim, definitely. There were photographs of the both of them in her house," Chris said.

Gene nodded thoughtfully. "So he's not blood related then, but still likely our best lead. He was already there when you arrived, right? So he should at least be able to confirm when she left the flat and where she was headed."

"What would that matter, Guv?" Chris asked after a pause.

"That can give us a time table. Where on here route she was killed, if she deviated from what she told the boy. If for some reason she was lying to her 'nephew' that could indicate ulterior motive. And that could tell us…?"

Gene looked to the other three, waiting for them to catch up with his logic.

"That could tell us… whether she might have been mixed up in something nasty after all?" Chris replied questioningly.

"Right," Gene replied with a grin. "Chris, you are now in charge of finding all friends of the victim who might know about the boy. Larry you're with him. Ray, you keep looking into the evidence and the witness reports."

"Aw, Guv, why do I have to sit behind a desk while Chris gets to knock heads?" Ray whined.

Chris grinned broadly. "Well, you got to knock heads last time. It's my turn!"

"This aint about knocking heads. Not unless they're…resistant. These are the friends of the victim, all right?" Gene scolded.

"Yes, Guv."

"None of the people we pulled in actually saw anything," said Ray, though Gene couldn't be sure if it was just to inform him or to try and weasel out of his task.

"Well, go over it all again," Gene demanded. "Get Will and Leonard or whoever to help ya'."

"Yes, Guv."

Gene nodded. His own interrogations hadn't gone well either. After checking in with forensics, Gene had knocked a few heads of his own. Low lifes and homeless people who'd been hanging around the park, but no one had seen anything. The man gave a heavy sigh. It was going to be a long afternoon.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

DCI Hunt had been wrong. The afternoon hadn't been long so much as it was painful. He'd gone back to forensics, who were taking their sweet time with the prints and fiber they'd found on the scene and had nothing to report. Chris was still absent so Gene had to assume he'd found nothing yet on the kid. There was so little to do that Gene had actually sat down to pour over the statements and police reports with Ray.

"There's nothin' here, Guv," Ray complained.

"There's something here. You're just too much of a daft pansy to see it."

God, even his insults weren't up to par anymore. The man sat back and rubbed his eyes. He needed a drink. They all needed a drink. Gene straightened and opened his mouth to suggest as much when Carol stepped in from the hall.

"Guv, there's someone at the front desk to see you. I tried to call but no one picked up," she said awkwardly. This plonk was never going to last if she didn't toughen up a little.

He sighed in the exasperation wondering why he even bothered with the phone. He didn't hear it half the time anyway.

"Well, tell 'em to go away, luv," Hunt replied, stretching in his seat. "I've had enough for today. Me an' the lads were about to head out for a drink."

Carol fidgeted as Ray and the others gave resounding whoops of appreciation.

"But, well, he said you'd probably want to see him," Carol said, her dainty voice straining to be heard over the cheers. "Said his name was Sam Tyler?"

As if someone had closed a door, the background din suddenly went silent. Gene stared at Carol a moment. "Said he was who?"

Carol answered. "Sam Tyler, Guv."

"Is this some kind of sick joke, WPC Williams?" Gene questioned as he stood, anger plain in his voice. The woman shook her head, bewildered by reaction.

"That's what he told me, Guv. Honest!"

Gene glanced back at Ray who was still staring at Carol, but with the same confused disbelief that Gene felt. Gene hesitated for a moment, not sure what he wanted to find out there in the lobby. And then he viciously pushed open the doors, went down the elevator, and strode down the hall. From this angle he saw no one and his anger began to boil. Who the hell had the gall to impersonate a dead officer? He spun back around so as to get a description from Carol, when he noticed for the first time the boy sitting on the bench. The boy they'd lost over the fence. Gene stared at the kid as the strangest feeling of familiarity past over him.

"'ello, Guv," the kid replied with a small wave.

"You?" Gene questioned. "You said you were Sam Tyler?"

Ray and Carol appeared in the lobby as the boy nodded.

"I am, sir," he said timidly.

"You're Sam Tyler?" Ray questioned.

The boy nodded emphatically as Gene tried to decide whether the boy knew of their Sam and was attempting some perverse joke or if it was just some strange twist of fate and yet another Sam Tyler had fallen into his lap.

"I uh… I came back," the boy stated obviously. "I'm sorry for runnin' away earlier. I was just…"

The kid looked down at his hands as he rubbed them together. The lights in the lobby flickered momentarily as if attempting to match the boy's dark mood.

"I want to help. I want to help you get the blighters that killed my auntie!" the kid exclaimed, his young voice cracking.

Gene looked at Ray who actually seemed more relieved now that they were dealing with a child and not a ghost. Gene was too, to be honest. Being the very down to earth and in-your-bloody-face copper that he was, he wasn't sure how he'd react to something quite so supernatural.

"All right, kid. Come down to my office," Gene replied with a motion back down the hall.

Ray led the way, the kid followed, then Gene. When they past Carol, Gene gave her an approving nod.

"Thanks, luv," he replied. The woman gave a nod and a small smile. It was only then that it occurred to him that Carol had never actually met their Sam Tyler. He gave a small chuckle to himself. 'Lucky her,' he thought.

Moments later they stepped back into the offices. Everyone looked up curiously. Gene sniffed and lay a heavy hand on the nervous kid's shoulder.

"Right everyone, our lead has returned to us. So it's back to work for a bit. Ray, you try getting' in touch with Chris again, then come in an' help me with the boy."

"Right, Guv."

"It's Sam."

Gene looked down to the pouting child. "What?"

"Not 'boy' or 'kid' or any of that, Guv. It's Sam."

Gene smirked at the use of 'Guv' even as the others in the room, save Ray, began to murmur at the name. Gene looked down at the stern faced and sad eyed child.

"You know… I used to know a man named Sam," Gene said. "He was a pain in the ass too. Now come on, _kid."_

Gene slipped a hand round the back of young Sam's neck and not so gently led him into his office. He pulled out a chair and motioned to it.

"Take a seat."

The boy did, hardly hitting the cushion before he leaned forward and put his head in his hands. Again, the simple action sang familiarity at him, but he pushed it aside. Both 'Sam' and 'Tyler' were relatively common names.

'Yet it's more than that,' Gene thought with a frown. It was his face. He could be Sam's kid easily. Except that Sam didn't have kids. Or so he'd said.

"So," Gene said, sliding behind his desk. "Let's start from the beginning, shall we?"

Sam nodded. "Ok."

With a sigh, the boy straightened. Gene propped up his feet on an open desk drawer, fully aware that the kid's statement might not help them at all.

"I was born in 1969 to Vic and Ruth Tyler. Ever since I can remember, I've wanted to become a policeman-"

"Oh for Christ's sake, I don't mean THAT beginning!" Gene exclaimed, sitting up in his chair and bringing his fist down on the desk top. The boy was strangely unfazed and continued in monotone.

"I passed the exams in 1988 and joined the Greater Manchester Police-"

"A woman has been murdered, you little git! I will not have you impede this investigation any further-"

"In 2006 I was hit by a car and when I woke up it was 1973. That's when I met you, Gene Hunt."

"That's it." Gene stood furiously. Here he'd actually been feeling bad for this kid who'd just lost his aunt! Either this kid hadn't taken his medication today or he was an unfeeling, heartless little prick. Whatever it was, Gene didn't have the patience for it. He rounded the desk as the boy continued, still not reacting to the oncoming threat.

"Just a few months ago, I drove my car into the river during a chase. You never found my body."

Infuriated that this kid was making a mockery of the death of one of his own, Gene reached down and grabbed the kid by the collar.

"How dare you-"

Gene stopped short when the kid finally looked up, revealing that it was no longer the kid at all. It was Sam Tyler- DI Sam Tyler- whose shirt he gripped. Now Gene was not a man to scare easily, but this inexplicable event made him start and step away with wide haunted eyes.

"What…"Gene fell off into a stupefied silence as Sam Tyler stood, his eyes filled with an angry fire the likes of which Gene had never seen.

"You never found my body, Guv," Sam said, his voice low and dangerous.

"Tyler?"

"Did you even look?!" Sam shouted.

"Of course we looked!" Gene found himself shouting back. This was insanity. Sam could not be here. Not like this. Someone had drugged Gene. That was the only explanation. He was just hallucinating.

Suddenly Sam darted forward and gave Gene a vicious shove. The bigger man practically flew back into the metal cabinets. Though the move and the almost supernatural strength surprised Gene greatly, instinct overruled it and as Sam stalked towards him, Gene threw a defensive punch.

And Sam caught it.

Gene stared in shock at the furious man before him and thought again that it wasn't possible for this to be the Sam Tyler he knew. The strength, the mask of hatred and disgust… They just weren't Sam. As if to drive the point home, only a second later the distorted Sam Tyler was twisting Gene's wrist nearly to the point of breaking and forcing Gene to the floor with a shout.

"You didn't look hard enough, Guv," said Sam's voice, dripping with restrained fury. "You gave up on me. My death is your fault."

"It's not my fault! You didn't obey orders! You went off on your own!" Gene shouted, only partly aware that by saying this he was contradicting his earlier denial of the person before him.

"I didn't have a choice. You didn't see what I saw. I had to act. No. You put me on the line and I paid the price! With my life!" Sam roared and with the last word, he twisted Gene's wrist even further and with a pained exclamation from Gene, it snapped.

Sam let go and Gene fell forward, cradling his broken wrist.

"You're not Sam Tyler," Gene said after several moments of stillness. "You're not!"

Gene's head shot up so that he might face his enemy, but Sam Tyler was gone without a trace. Gene was alone. He wasn't on the floor anymore either. He was sitting at his desk. Gene straightened immediately, clutching a wrist that was no longer broken.

"What… the bloody hell…" Gene's heart was racing and he blinked several times as if trying to make something come into focus that wasn't there. "I'm loosin' my blasted mind…"

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AN: Let me know what you think! Reviews inspire me to update more quickly. ^_^


	2. From Anger to Sorrow and Fear

_**LIFE ON MARS: Stages of Death**_

**Author's Note**: Thanks to Coral-Rose, Arria Rose, Brizinger, and STC for the reviews! They made my day. ^_^ And now... The strangeness that has become Gene Hunt's life continues.

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**CHAPTER 2: From Anger to Sorrow and Fear**

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Gene was still staring in disbelief around his empty office when Ray came in carrying a tape recorder.

"Here you are, Guv. Just finished transcribing that interview," Ray replied somewhat grumpily. "I know you said it'd be helpful, but I just don't see it right now."

"What interview?" Gene questioned.

Ray blinked at him. "Your interview with the kid."

Gene's confused gaze drifted down to the tape recorder before him. After a moment's hesitation, he reached down, hit rewind a moment, then play. Much to the DCI's dismay, his own voice drifted out.

_"And you're sure that's all she said?"_

_"Yeah," _came the voice of the kid._ "She wanted to go to the grocery store on Allen Road 'cause they don't close 'til 10."_

Gene clicked it off then leaned forward on the desk, his tie drooping forward to brush the surface. That was his voice and the kid's. How did somebody fake that?

"Guv?"

Then again, _was_ it faked? The more he thought about it, the more he actually remembered conducting the interview. It had been relatively short. The kid was visiting his aunt, who wasn't his aunt by blood but through being good friends with his mother. The aunt had left the flat just after 9pm to get something from the store, a treat for both of them. The young Sam had fallen asleep just after 10pm, before his aunt had come back. The next morning she still hadn't returned and her bed hadn't been slept in.

Gene scowled. So much detail in that memory. So he _had_ conducted the investigation? But what about the other memory? The impossible one…It was all too vivid that Gene could see DI Tyler standing over him, staring down with angry eyes just before breaking his wrist in a fit of rage.

"Guv, you all right?"

Gene glared at Ray. "O' course I'm all right! What's wrong with you?"

Ray backed off with a shrug and Gene sighed.

"Anyway, I think it's time for that drink," Gene said. God knew he needed one about now.

Ray grinned. "I'll tell the lads. Oh, Guv," Ray lowered his voice a bit. "What should we do with the kid?"

"Where are his parents?" Gene asked.

Ray looked at him as if he'd asked something silly, but responded like a proper subordinate. "The father left them years ago and his mum's off visitin' a friend in Spain. Chris searched the house, but couldn't find a number."

Even as Ray explained, Gene could remember hearing it all before, from the kid during the interview. Gene clenched one hand into a fist.

He refused to be crazy. He was Gene Hunt, DCI. The sheriff of Manchester. A tough bastard who struck fear into the hearts of baddies everywhere! He was NOT a sissy nancy girl who hallucinated dead friends to attack him while in the middle of a murder investigation! Sam was the crazy one, not he. …Maybe Sam had rubbed some of his craziness off on Gene, sort of a 'parting of ways' gift before he went.

"Just what I need," Gene muttered under his breath.

"Guv?"

"I said we'll just take him with us."

Ray stared at him. "An 11 year old in the Railway Arms?"

"Maybe he'll remember somethin' important and if he does, I want to be right there."

Still looking quite displeased with the idea, Ray nodded.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

It was late in the evening now, later than Gene thought it would be. He was going to miss dinner if he hadn't already. On a whim he'd called home and apologized to the missus, something he didn't always do, but that she seemed to appreciate. It was going to be roast pork tonight, Gene remembered as they entered the Railway Arms. His wife made a mean roast pork and oven roasted vegetables. Oh well. He'd have some cold, later.

Nelson greeted the group of officers from his place behind the bar. "What can I getcha tonight, gentlemen?"

Gene ordered a round of beers for his men and a glass of cranberry juice for the kid. Nelson looked over the bar to the boy whose eyes traveled unhappily over the premises before landing on the dart board.

"Who is he?" Nelson asked as he poured the drinks, handing the first one to Gene.

"Nephew of a bird murdered late last night," Gene answered.

"And… you're takin' care of him?"

"Keeping an eye on him," Gene corrected. "Just for now. He's got no where else to go."

"So are you goin' ta bring him home wit' ya then as well?" the barkeep asked.

Gene frowned, realizing he hadn't really thought that far ahead. "There's always someone at the station. I'll probably just leave him there for the night."

"Police station at night is no place for a child," Nelson replied thoughtfully.

"What are you on about? It's the safest place around,' Gene responded hotly.

At Gene's side, there suddenly appeared a small figure, standing on tip-toe to see over the bar.

"Excuse me," the kid said, addressing Nelson. "Could I have the darts?"

Nelson put down a mug of beer for Gene and reached under the counter.

"Here you are, little man," Nelson replied in his usual genial manner as he handed the boy the darts.

"Thanks."

As the boy moved away, Gene confided in Nelson. "It's strange though how quickly he's gotten over it."

Nelson looked back at the kid. "Were he and his aunt not very close?"

"Close enough to be left alone with her. Close enough to've been cryin' over it earlier. But he also tried to run away," Gene said. He took a swig of his beer as Nelson prepared to bring out the rest of them on a tray. "In my experience, you don't run from the police unless you've got somethin' to hide."

"We all react to death in different ways, Mr. Hunt. You know that better than I," Nelson replied. Then he nodded to a place behind Gene. "An' I don't think he's quite as over it as you think."

With a frown, Gene turned his attention back to Sam in time to see the boy offer up the darts to a patiently waiting Ray who hardly acknowledged the kid more than to take the darts and give him a rough pat on the head before returning to his conversation with Larry and Chris. The boy stood there awkwardly for a moment, then moved away to sit forlornly in a desolate corner adjacent to the bar.

Gene watched as the boy drew his knees to his chest and bent his head down to rest upon them, wrapping his arms around them to cradle his head. Nelson prepared to bring out the drinks, but first paused and looked to Gene.

"Ya' know… he looks a lot like-"

"Sam Tyler?" Gene finished, trying not to shiver as the unbidden memory of the angry dead man in his office floated unbidden once more to his mind. "Yeah, I thought that too."

Nelson gave a small laugh then finished his round, ending by crouching down beside the young Sam and offering him his glass on cranberry juice. Nelson said a few quiet words that Gene didn't catch and the boy nodded, wiping a tear stained eye with one hand and accepting the drink with the other. As Nelson returned with his empty tray, Gene leaned over the bar.

"You have a way with people, don't you?"

Nelson smiled. "Couldn't own a bar if I didn't."

"Hey, Guv!"

Gene turned to see Chris motioning to him with the darts.

"It's your go."

Gene chugged the rest of his drink and with a nod to Nelson entered the game. Gene stepped back and began to take aim, when a thought came to him and he turned around.

"Hey, kid."

Young Sam didn't look up.

"Kid! I'm talkin' to you."

The ceiling lights flickered, strangely coinciding with the kid as he blinked and looked up at Gene, somewhat blankly.

"I think you should have a go," Gene said seriously. He sensed Ray and Chris look to him in surprise. Gene however, didn't take his stern gaze off the kid, whose surprise was also quite visible. "I saw you eyein' this board when we came in. I bet you've got a decent throwin' arm, so come on. Show us what you've got."

The boy looked at Gene a moment longer, then shook his head and buried his face in his arms once again. Gene frowned.

"What? You scared? Come on, lad, what are you gonna do? Just sit there an' cry like a little girl?"

The boy's head shot up, anger clear in his eyes. For a moment, Gene wondered if he'd gone too far, that the boy might just get fed up and try to escape again, but then he saw it. A spark in the kid's eyes; angry, but competitive also. The boy's pride had been bruised. Gene wanted the kid up, thinking of something other than his own sorrow and loneliness. This was the only way he knew to do it.

"You're probably right to be scared. Tiny little you against a bunch of professionals like us?" Gene chuckled. Ray did as well. "You haven't got a chance."

Gene watched him challengingly and the kid reacted like he expected any young kid to when an adult said they couldn't do something.

"Fine," the young Sam replied finally. "I'll play you."

Ray made a mockingly scared noise and several of the other officers laughed. The boy stood up and strode over to them, trying to look unfazed by their taunts. Gene smirked and handed over the darts. He gave the boy a rough pat on the shoulder, then stepped aside, motioning for everyone else to quiet down. The boy took nervous aim then tossed it. The dart hit the board wide, outside the circle, but still the board. A few officers chuckled. Gene did as well, but for a different reason.

"Hey, Lancaster, he's already better than you!" he replied.

Chris and Ray led the laughter, but the kid took no notice, so focused was he on his next throw. This one his much closer to the bull's eye, but struck only the 10 slot. Chris gave an 'ooh' of appreciation. The kid gave no sign of pride or disappointment. Only determination showed in his eyes as he threw the last dart. This one hit almost as close to dead center, but in the 30 point slot. Another 'oooh', now from multiple officers and this time the young Sam smiled.

Gene offered a nod of approval as the kid looked his way. "Not bad."

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

When the game was finally over, the kid seemed to be in higher spirits. He hadn't done terribly well, but Gene's officers had been smart enough to keep things playful as well as competitive. Gene declined another game and went outside for some air.

Gene stepped out into the cool night with a deep sigh. He looked skyward where he could just make out a couple stars past the Manchester lights. The DCI pulled out a cigarette and lit it, sucking in deeply before exhaling the smoke. He began a slow pace down the sidewalk, his mind wandering from the case to his inexplicable hallucination. He went only to the end of the pub before turning back. And there on the curb sat the kid, his head propped in his hands though he didn't seem to be crying. He just stared off into the distance. Since the boy was in his pacing path, Gene approached him then came to a stop at his side. It was strange. He hadn't meant to stop, but he'd suddenly gotten the sense that he should. Trying to shake the feeling, Gene spoke in an attempt to make the pause seem more natural.

"Not a bad game in there, kid," he replied.

The boy didn't look at him, but responded, "Not as good as you."

Gene snorted. "Well, I am pretty damn good. Keep at it an' maybe one day you'll come close."

The boy smirked, somehow able to take the comment as Gene had meant it: a compliment. Gene sat down beside the boy, watching a small black car drive by as he took a long drag from the cigarette.

"My mum says those things'll kill ya'," the boy said and though he didn't turn to Gene or point, it was obvious what he meant.

"Well my mum smoked 'til the day she died. Told me the same thing when she got lung cancer. Died of a heart attack instead."

"I'm sorry," said the boy.

Gene chuckled, though the sound was somewhat hollow. "She'd have thought it was damn funny. Good woman."

The boy nodded. Gene took a final drag from the cigarette then dropped it to the street and ground it into the pavement with his shoe.

"You're going to stay at the station tonight, Sam," said Gene, his voice quieter than it had been. The boy said nothing to agree or disagree. "You'll be safe there until your mum comes back."

"My mum's not coming back, Guv," the boy replied seriously. The statement had Gene turning to him with a frown.

"Why not?"

The boy sighed and looked to Gene despondently. "You know the truth, don't you?"

"The truth about your mum?"

"The truth about this place," the kid replied. "You must know."

"You're not makin' sense, kid," Gene growled. That sense of familiarity with the boy was becoming stronger again and quite honestly that's the last thing he wanted considering what had happened in his office earlier. All he could do was remind himself that this boy was not his dead friend while trying to figure out what in the world he could be talking about.

"This is not real," the boy replied with conviction. Then he jabbed a small finger into his own thigh, punctuating each word with a tap. "This is NOT real!"

"Kid… This place is as real as it gets," Gene told him.

"Is it?" the boy searched Gene's face. "It can't be."

"It is."

"No! Things are wrong. Things are missing!" the boy exclaimed, his wide eyes indicating true fear.

'Maybe his aunt's death has affected him more than I realized,' Gene thought to himself.

"Everything's fading, Guv," said the boy as he clapped his hands to his ears as if to block out some foreign noise. Or perhaps, more correctly, to hear it better.

Gene stood, looking down at the kid with confusion and pity. "Look, we're going to have some doctors in to see you first thing tomorrow. Try to keep it together until then, eh?"

Gene reached down to help the wide eyed boy to his feet when he suddenly sensed that he was being watched. Warily, Gene turned to his right and he felt himself go cold. There, in the middle of the street, stood DI Tyler. He was dressed the way he'd been the day he'd driven into the river and his whole body was drenched as if he'd just climbed out of it. He stared at Gene with the same hard eyes he'd had in Gene's office.

"Where's Annie, Guv?" Sam Tyler asked, his sad voice not quite matching his angry eyes.

Gene didn't answer. Surely there was some sane explanation for all this. He hadn't been drinking anywhere near long enough to make him hallucinate. Maybe he'd been drugged. It'd happened before, but… he didn't feel drugged. Gene looked down to the kid who Gene was partly surprised to see had not vanished into the night. He was too watching the man in the street, but no fear or surprise was visible in his dull, sad little eyes.

The ghost or whatever he was took a step towards them. His attention still on Gene.

"Where is she, Gene?" it- he demanded.

Gene sputtered, for once at a loss for words. Surprisingly it was the boy that spoke. "Everything's fading."

"Things are wrong," said the ghost, taking no obvious notice of the boy.

"What… is this?" Gene managed.

"Where is Annie?" the ghost asked again, stepping even closer. The streetlamps brightened and made suddenly vividly clear the small rivulets of water that ran down the sides of Sam's face and over his black leather coat. Gene forced himself to find his voice, but instead of asking his own questions as he'd meant to, he found himself wanting to answer Sam's.

"Annie is…" Gene faded off when he realized he wasn't quite sure. It was something he should know and yet for the life of him, he couldn't remember. "Annie…"

"Annie is gone," answered the boy.

The ghost's attention turned to the boy, as did Gene's.

"Gone?" it questioned, its eyes suddenly as sad as its voice.

"Everything's-" the boy started.

"Fading," the ghost-Sam finished.

"What the bloody hell is goin' on here?" Gene exclaimed. He'd finally found his temper. "You can't possibly be here and even if you could be, you wouldn't be finishing sentences with this pre-pubescent twerp! Who are you, really? Sam's evil twin? Tryin' to get yer revenge for his death? Well I'm not biting.

"Getting this kid in on this you is sick and trying to impersonate a dead officer is a disgrace. You should be disgusted with yourself, you stupid bastard!" Gene drew his handcuffs, only a tad unsettled that neither the kid of the 'ghost' were particularly put off by his outburst. He stepped up to the supposed DI Tyler. "I'm taking you in for the obstruction of the investigation of the death of the Ilene Hutchison. You too, boy. Now that I know yer part of this, we'll likely have to throw our yer statement and start from scratch!"

Gene waited a moment for the 'ghost' to offer up his hands of his own free will. Instead, he spoke.

"Annie's gone, Gene. You're the only one tying me here now. You're the anchor."

"Shut it!" Gene exclaimed, grabbing the man's wrist and spinning him around so that he could cuff "Sam's" hands behind his back. The 'ghost' maneuvered like a human being at least, turning easily without resisting arrest. This bolstered Gene's confidence.

"Guv, I'm dead on the outside," said the 'ghost'.

"You have the right to remain silent. You-"

"Guv!" It was the boy now. "I'm drifting, Guv. I died out there. I don't want to die here too."

"You do not have to say anything that may harm-"

"You have to find my body, Guv!" the boy exclaimed.

Now Gene spun around, furious and fed up with this nonsense, but this time the boy was gone. Gene stared at the empty spot for a long moment. Then he spun back to his captive only to find that he too was missing. Flustered and angry, Gene looked up and down the empty street, but there was no sign of either of them in well lit night.

He put a hand over his face and rubbed his eyes, opening them only a moment later to be looking at not the sky or the stars, but the ceiling. He blinked slowly then sat up and looked around him. He was in the station, in his office. He'd been lying on a bench he recognized as coming from the lobby.

"What…" he faded off as he noticed another bench across from him, against the far wall. There was an obvious make-shift pillow and blankets made from coats, but no one slept there.

His breathing already ragged, Gene stumbled over to the bench, towards the one coat in particular that had caught his eye. He reached out, hand shaking like a druggie in withdrawal, and lifted up a familiar black leather jacket.

Gene scrutinized it a moment in disbelief, but it was definitely Sam Tyler's jacket. The same one he'd worn the day he'd died. The same one he'd worn but a moment ago in the street, though there was no trace of water. Gene threw it down to the bench and stormed out of his office and into the larger office space. No one was there.

"Sam!" Gene shouted, not sure which one he was calling for or whether he was angry or desperate.

Gene strode past the rows of desks, empty and desolate, to the doors which were locked. Gene gave the doors a jerk and a shove, but they didn't move. Strange. Gene didn't think he could ever remember a time when they were locked. Gene gave the doors a vicious kick, then sighed and leaned back against them. He blinked slowly, trying to keep his cool, but as he opened his eyes he realized that a row of lights had gone out. Gene tensed.

"Who's there?" he called.

No one responded. Another blink and another row went out. Gene straightened, hands balled into angry fists.

"This is not funny! I'm a very busy man so if you'd just open the door and turn the lights back on, I just might NOT beat you to a bloody pulp before locking you in a cell with Gary the Cutter!"

Another row of lights went dark. Only a few more before Gene was in complete darkness. The DCI wasn't scared however. The longer this went on, the more like a kid's joke it all seemed. Well, Gene was no child.

"Hey, kid! If I find out it's you, don't think I'll be any easier on you! I am not havin' a good day!"

It was about the same time he finished that he realized that all the lights in this room were controlled by a single switch. It was impossible to turn them off row by row. Not only that, but Gene was standing not four feet from that switch and a glance in that direction revealed that he was alone.

Another row went out.

"What the hell is going on…" Gene whispered.

And then the rest of the lights blinked out. Gene tensed, straining his senses in the darkened room for any sign of another person. Nothing. Everything was unnaturally silent. Gene tried the doors again, but they were still locked. With a curse he spun back around. That's when he heard the crackling. It only took him a moment to recognize it as static from a radio, though without a shred of light there was almost no chance of him actually finding it.

As if in response to his thoughts, suddenly a single overhead light turned on, its glow illuminating a small space just beyond a bookshelf. Again… that was impossible to do…

With only the slightest hesitation, Gene made his way cautiously to the light. The static died for a moment, and then crackled to life once more. Gene rounded the bookshelf to see a cardboard box full of junk sitting by itself on a table. After a cursory glance behind him into the empty darkness, Gene rifled through the box pulling out everything from a navy blue tie to a toy astronaut, a strange looking police badge to a stuffed clown. He even found a pop out nightstick. Now there was a neat trick. Gene only marveled at it for a moment before the static became louder and he returned to his digging. Finally, at the bottom of the box, Gene found the source of the sound: a police radio. Old and falling apart it was, orange tape the only thing keeping it together. Gene stared at it a moment, then lifted it up and, pressing down the button, he spoke.

"Hullo?"

Only static answered.

"Is anyone there?" Gene questioned.

The static alone crackled back for a moment, and then a voice responded. "It's dark, Guv."

Gene hesitated though he recognized the voice almost instantly. "Tyler?"

"It's so dark…"

"No shit," Gene sneered through his anxiety. "Was it you who's been turnin' out the lights? How? And why?"

"I'm dyin'," came Sam's voice. He sounded aggravated, but weak as well, his voice somewhat strained and hollow. "That's how and why."

"You've lost it," Gene told Sam. "And so have I. Talkin' to a dead guy… That's not normal-"

"Gene, you've got to find my body. Please!"

Gene wanted to shout at him, to tell the voice that he had tried. That they'd searched for ages for Sam Tyler's body, but all they'd found was an empty car. It was as if the DI had vanished. Gene pressed down the button forcefully and opened his mouth to say just that, but nothing came out. His anger deflated and when he did speak, it was quietly.

"I've done all I know to do. What bright ideas to do you have, genius?"

Static crackled back at him for a long moment, but just when Gene thought he wouldn't be getting a response, one finally came.

"Use the boy."

Gene frowned. "The boy?"

"He can help."

"Well, in case you were not aware –you bein' just a voice and all- the boy is gone and I'm trapped in me own station!"

"He's not gone," Sam's voice replied.

Gene suddenly had the urge to turn around. He resisted a moment, then turned around slowly, just to prove to himself that he was doing it of his own accord. The first thing he noticed was the boy. He stood there not a meter away, playing with the astronaut toy Gene had earlier tossed aside. The second thing Gene noticed was that it was bright. All the lights had come back on. Gene just stared for a moment, taking everything in, then turned his full attention to the boy.

"Well?"

The kid seemed to understand this and motioned for Gene to follow him as he headed back towards the doors. Gene did. On impulse he called for Chris and Ray to come with him and to his surprise they responded. The rows of before empty desks were now occupied. It was as if a normal day had begun. Gene found himself going along with it with an ease that unnerved him.

"Where are we goin', Guv?" asked Ray, quite suddenly appearing at his side, offering Gene his trench coat. Gene donned it with a strange sense of calm as he answered.

"Out."

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

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Author'sNote: Next chapter will be the final one! Reviews are inspiring. Let me know what you think! Constructive criticism is appreciated, flames are not. Cheers!


	3. Calm Stillness

Author's Note: The final chapter begins and the truth behind Sam's ghost and Gene's hallucinations are revealed! Thanks to Arria for her review. I appreciate your thoughts. ^_^

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**Chapter 3: Calm Stillness**

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Though he used no key, the before locked doors to the hallway opened easily for the kid. Gene, Ray and Chris followed young Sam not into a corridor, but onto a sidewalk. Ahead of them, down a shallow slope, a river raged. Gene rubbed his eyes, surprised that he wasn't more surprised. He knew for a fact that only a split second had gone by, but he could also remember leaving the station and getting into his car and, at the behest of the kid, driving down to the river .

"You all right, Guv?" Chris asked.

"Fine," he snapped, attempting to hide his bewilderment. If there was a God out there somewhere, He was certainly having fun messing with him. "Where's the boy?"

Chris and Ray motioned down the riverbank where the kid carefully picked his way through scrubs and trash.

"Come on," Gene replied and the trio made their way down, following the boy at a distance.

"This is where it happened," said Chris quietly.

Gene nodded, spotting the deep tire treads in the now dry dirt. It didn't make sense that they'd still be there nearly a year later considering all the rain and hubbub that had been through since and yet there they were, nearly the same as they had been the night Sam Tyler had driven his car into the river.

"Guv? What's this got to do with Ilene Hutchison?" Ray asked, pulling out a cigarette. The wind was picking up now and even with a sheltering hand, Ray had a bit of trouble lighting the fag.

"Not sure, ta tell you the truth," Gene replied. Ahead of them, the boy had just reached the water.

"I don't remember it ever being so rough," Ray said after a pause as he looked out over the choppy river.

"Maybe a storm's comin'," Chris replied, his attention also going from the kid to the water.

"That wouldn't make it this bad," Ray replied after taking a drag.

The trio paused a good three meters behind the kid who was looking around in confusion.

"Where is it?" the boy asked in a small voice that was nearly lost in the sounds of the whistling wind and the crashing water. The boy turned to look back at Gene and the DCI found himself chilled as he saw that young Sam's eyes had somehow clouded over and were now white and pupil-less. At Gene's side Chris gasped and Ray let his unfinished cigarette fall to the sandy soil.

"Guv…" the kid continued, the fear clear in his trembling voice. "I can't see anything! It's all gone dark!"

As if in response to the boy, the sky went suddenly black. The sun still shown and yellow-grey clouds still floated by, but any hint of blue had disappeared.

"This …is impossible…"Gene whispered.

"Shit!" came a shout from his side. Ray was seeing it too.

The sound of the water crashing against the shore brought Gene's attention away from the terrifying twist that nature had thrown their way. The river's waves were getting ridiculously high and were slamming against the piers and sand as if a hurricane was making landfall. Water was sweeping up around the child's knees and Gene realized the danger even as it happened. The man charged forward as an impossible riptide pulled out the kid's feet from underneath him and began sucking him into the icy water. The blinded boy thrashed as the water pulled him away and managed to cry out a gurgling plea.

"Gene!" he shouted desperately.

Gene hit the water, fighting to keep his balance against the torrent.

"Gene!" the boy cried again and then he went under. Gene saw his small struggling hand sink below the surface just before him and the man plunged his own hand down after the child with a shouted curse. At first he grasped nothing and hope suddenly vanished from him. He'd lost the boy. The kid –whatever or whoever he was- was gone-

And then his fingers closed around a child-sized wrist. Immediately Gene felt the hand grasp him back and with an exclamation of victory Gene pulled the drowning boy free.

"Guv!" Chris and Ray were beside him again, helping Gene to trudge out of the raging water, still holding the sputtering child. "That was close."

Gene looked to Chris with a nod. "Too close."

Attention went to the boy then, as he pulled on Gene's collar.

"You all right, Sam?" Gene asked, alarmed when the boy's still white eyes looked up to meet his.

The kid didn't say anything, just pointed. Gene followed the pointing finger down the shore, wondering as he did how the blind boy knew where to point to. That's when he saw it. Downriver, just under half a kilometer, Gene could just make out the shape of a body laying in the sand. Gene tensed, hardly noticing as bits of the landscape began to disappear into the oncoming black. Very quickly, the river and the shore were all that remained in the light.

"What the hell is goin' on?" Ray questioned fearfully as he looked back to where the car had once been.

"I think it's too late," said the boy quietly.

Gene stood locked in place, unable to force his body to respond as DI Tyler's words over the radio came back to him.

_"You need to find my body…I'm dyin'…"_

"It's all goin' to hell, Guv," said the boy. "I'm sorry."

"Sorry?" Gene questioned. "You sound like this is all your fault."

The boy closed his eerie eyes and bowed his head in admission.

"How?" Gene exclaimed. "Don't be such a stupid nonce! That'd mean…"

Gene faded off. He wasn't really sure what it meant.

"You found my body, but it's too late."

Just like his dead friend's voice had said…

"_Your _body?" Gene questioned, his subordinates watching the exchange in confusion. "You're not DI Tyler. You're just-"

"I am. What's left of him anyway."

"That's nonsense!" Gene replied, but as he looked back out over the blackness beyond the shore, then back downriver where the body still lay unmoving, Gene found he wasn't so sure.

"I made this place… a place for my mind to go to, but the truth is… I'm dying. I've been dying. And no one can escape death forever."

"Damn you," Gene exclaimed, pushing the child at Chris who took him after nearly dropping him in surprise. "I live here. They live here. This isn't your world. It's real!"

But the truth was Gene didn't know what to believe anymore. What was real and what should be hallucination all seemed too mixed together to be properly separated.

The kid was Sam Tyler, but pint sized? Sure. The world was fading away into nothingness? Fine. But Gene was going to get it back. What the hell if it didn't make a lick of sense. Gene Hunt was no hallucination. This place, his life, the lives of Ray and Chris and Annie, Coral, and Phyllis… they were all real. No prepubescent lunatic DI was going to take it away from him. And then there was Sam… was it really possible that he could be saved? Even after all this time? The kid certainly didn't think so, but then, Gene never had been one to take advice from children.

"So you need to find your body? You need an anchor? Fine!" Gene shouted. With a motion for Ray to follow, Gene took off, full stop down the sandy shoreline towards the unmoving form on the ground. Even from this distance, Gene could tell it was the body of the adult Sam Tyler. "I'll be your bloody anchor!"

Even as he ran, Gene saw darkness encroaching towards Sam's body from the opposite direction. This was it, Gene knew. If the darkness got to Sam first… it would be the end of everything.

'So you believe it then?"

'…No'

Gene forced himself to run even faster. The cold soulless black was nearly upon the seemingly lifeless form, but so was Gene.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

In a cold sterile room, noise had been an incessant constant for what seemed like forever. The sound of people moving, of monitors beeping, equipment whirring and people talking urgently. Then the beeping slowed, the equipment stopped, and the movement ceased. People spoke, quickly, loudly, then quietly. Then the beeping stopped.

Quiet.

Quiet interrupted by a woman's sobs.

"No! He can't be!" she wailed. Her sorrow was heartbreaking.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Tyler. He's gone."

"No!" she sobbed, her cries echoing off the tiled walls and floors. "My boy! My boy!"

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

The noises were disturbing. Crying, shouting, and sirens. Those loud sounds grated on his hearing causing almost physical pain. More disturbing still was the darkness. It was everywhere now. He could easily escape the noise if he allowed himself to drift into the darkness, but that darkness, that nothingness, was more frightening by far. He tried to get away from both, but he had no direction, no handhold. He drifted. And now there was a tightness in what he felt should be his chest. He tried to breathe to relieve the pressure, but found it impossible.

And it was so quiet… He didn't know what it was that was missing, only that it was a steady, constant drumming and that it was essential. But there was nothing. So he drifted, unimaginable fear and an unexplainable sense of calm twisting around him in the darkness, playing a cruel game with his emotions. It seemed like it would be like this forever, calmness and fear intertwining with the still pain in his chest an ever present reminder that something was missing.

And then it happened. The drum sounded and his heart began to beat.

He coughed, water spilling from his mouth as he spasmed.

"Sam!"

Hands grabbed him, helping him twist to his side as he continued a deep, wet, hacking cough, trying to get the water in his lungs out and replace it with cool taste of oxygen.

After a few moments, Sam Tyler opened his heavy eyes to see Annie Cartwright kneeling over him against the night sky. His spirit soared and he lifted a weak hand towards her face, cupping it gently in his palm.

"You're here," he said, managing a whisper.

The brown eyed woman clasped her hands to his, relief clear in her whole posture. "I should be sayin' that to you, Sam! We nearly lost you."

Rough hands grabbed Sam by the shoulders and heaved him into a sitting position. Sam turned to see Gene Hunt crouch down on his left, opposite Annie.

"Lucky for you, Mrs. Doctor over here knew that CPR thing or we woulda," the DCI replied gruffly, but with obvious relief.

"Sam taught me," Annie told Gene proudly.

"Hmph."

Sam frowned, trying his best to focus. "What happened?"

"Drove yer car into the river, ya' git. You drive like a bleedin' woman."

"You were in a car crash, remember?" Annie prodded as she gently placed a hand on his forehead. Her hand was cold and he shivered. "You took a short cut, we think. Tried to cut them off."

"Any o' this ringin' a bell, Dorothy?"

Sam swallowed hard, the taste of bitter river water still in his mouth. "I was in the station," he said groggily. "No, I was… Gene, you were questioning me about a case… And Annie, you were missing. And so was I."

"Well, you're making even less sense than usual," Gene replied with a huff.

"You were unconscious, Sam. At least a minute. And ya' weren't breathing for almost as long. We haven't gone back to the station yet."

Sam put a shaky hand to his temples as bits of the crash came back to him. He had been in a car chase. So where had all that other stuff come from? He'd been a child again, and then he hadn't. He remembered blindness, fear, and the knowledge that he'd lost Annie, that he was losing everything. But he also remembered Gene Hunt. Loud, obnoxious, loyal Gene Hunt trying to keep him alive. Sam shook his head slowly.

"A coma dream within a coma dream?" he whispered.

"What?" Annie asked leaning closer.

But something was wrong. Sam remembered the chase. He'd forced the robbers down a side street, then one of his tires had blown. To make matters worse, he'd been going too fast to begin with. He'd lost control, but at the same time he'd been careening towards the water, he could also hear the high pitched whine of defibrillators and doctors' voices shouting and Sam Tyler had known beyond a shadow of a doubt that in 2006 or outside his coma dream created world, he was about to die. For good.

And when that happened, he would die here too. He'd always known it would happen some day. He had jumped off a building after all… And yet here he sat. Alive and pretty well in 1973, same as before and yet definitely different. Different, Sam knew, because as he examined this strange sensation inside of him, he realized he was truly dead in 2006. There was no going back now. And Sam felt strangely free.

"Hey! Snap out of it!" Gene exclaimed, clapping his hands in Sam's face.

Sam started in surprise and turned a glare at Gene only to notice something he hadn't before in the dark.

"You're sopping, Guv," Sam replied.

"Had to save your lily livered ass, didn't I?" Gene replied with a sniff.

"You pulled me out?" Sam questioned.

"The Guv an' Ray got here only a minute after you hit the water," Annie explained. "You forced the robbers down into an alleyway. Trapped hem. A squad car handled them and the Guv jumped right into the river, didn't even wait for the backup."

"You were the anchor," Sam replied with a grin.

Gene frowned. "You sayin' I'm heavy or somethin'? I'm no anchor. If I was, we'd both have drowned."

"Nearly did," Annie said sternly.

"But didn't! I'm more of a buoy or a submarine or somethin'. You know… none o' that really gives the proper feel to that heroic moment."

"Thanks for savin' me, Guv," Sam said earnestly. Then he pulled Annie into a kiss. "An' you too, Annie."

Annie smiled lovingly back at him as Gene whistled.

"Taking advantage of the near dead man, Cartwright?" Gene chuckled, calling Annie by her maiden name. "Don't let me stop you."

Sam chuckled and Annie gave Gene an amused pout.

"Where are Chris and Ray?" Sam asked.

"Up by the street, makin' sure the baddies are locked up proper in the squad car," Gene replied, his tone implying that the thieves were not going to be handled with care.

"Guv!"

The three turned to see Chris and Ray hurrying down the shoreline towards them.

"Or they were anyway," Gene sighed. "Hope they at least roughed 'em up a bit for nearly killin' our DI before letting the uniforms take 'em away."

Chris and Ray approached them quickly from uphill, their visibly worried expressions relaxing when they saw Sam.

"Hi, lads," Sam said in as strong a voice as he could muster.

"Hey, boss," Chris said before Ray gave him a light shove.

"See, I told ya' he'd be fine!" Ray replied.

"Only nearly," Gene replied, giving Sam a stinging slap on the back.

"I could use a drink," Sam replied.

"Good idea. Just need a bit o' fire in yer veins. Nothin' like a few shots of whiskey won't fix."

"I meant a real drink. I'm parched. Water or-"

"You nearly died of a major water overdose, Sammy-boy!" Gene exclaimed, dragging Sam to his feet. "And whiskey IS a real drink."

Annie slipped under Sam's arm for support, a frown on her pale face.

"He should go to the hospital!" she replied.

"Oh, don't be such a nag. He's not a complete sissy," Gene replied. "To the pub, gents! And lady."

Annie looked about to disagree, but Sam squeezed her hand and said gently. "It's alright. I'm fine. Surprisingly enough, I feel good. …Free."

Annie opened her mouth to argue with her husband, then, surprisingly, she only sighed and squeezed his hand back. "Alright."

"Right! Bit o' whiskey, maybe a beer or two, an' he'll be right as rain," Gene replied, taking up the lead as they headed up the slope to the street and the waiting Cortina.

"Whatever you say, Guv," Sam said with a chuckle.

Gene glanced back at him, the fog in the night air and the glow of the street lights behind him casting him in a strange ethereal glow. "Damn right."

~Fin~

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_Author's note: thanks to everyone who read this story and a special thanks to those who reviewed. I love to hear what you guys think! Cheers!_


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